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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086539">Petty Point</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/executrix/pseuds/executrix'>executrix</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Blake's 7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Catboy!Avon, M/M, Petplay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 02:40:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>887</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086539</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/executrix/pseuds/executrix</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dogs have owners. Cats have staff.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Vila Restal/Kerr Avon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Petty Point</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by the Kinktober prompt, "Petplay."</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>WEDNESDAY<br/>“I used to have a cat,” Vila said. </p><p>“Indeed? If you head left down the corridor, branch right, up a level, Cally’s on watch so you can find someone who actually cares,” Avon said, sitting back down at his desk, having decided not to dispute Vila’s right to sit down on the bed.</p><p>“I miss that cat,” Vila said. “I mean, it was nice not to have s’many mice in the biscuits, and so forth, but I used to hug it, nice and warm and furry, and I liked to stroke its fur.”</p><p>“There’s some artificial fur in the wardrobe room,” Avon said. “You could make yourself some cushions. Of course, that would involve work. You know, the thing I was trying to do when you blundered in here.”</p><p>Vila’s eyes turned steely. “I was thinking, you wouldn’t like Blake to know about that money we got from the Big Wheel, would you?”</p><p>Avon shrugged. “He can whistle for it, I’ve invested it soundly and very, very far from here and very, very securely.”</p><p>REALLY? Vila wondered. And he didn’t even give me the chance to do the same with my share. Bastard. Jammy bastard. But not furry bastard unless you’ve got an imagination. “But the point is, what’s it worth to you for me not to tell him?”</p><p>“Absolutely nothing,” Avon said. “He certainly needs me around, and when I’m in a charitable mood I’d say you earn your keep bar the aggravation.” </p><p>“But doesn’t it hurt when he’s all disappointed and sorrowful with it?”</p><p>“All right, what do you want?”</p><p>“Let’s say a week. End of a week, I’d probably be bored with a cat anyway. And, since out here in the middle of nowhere you couldn’t just whistle me up one, well, you’ll just have to *be* the cat.”</p><p>At least, Avon reflected, people generally didn’t drag their cats around with LEASHES and HARNESSES like dogs. That is not appropriate, he told his dick, with the usual success of such admonitions. “I’m not having any nonsense with litter boxes,” he said. “If that’s what you want, publish and be damned.”</p><p>“Euwww!” Vila said. “What an unpleasant imagination you’ve got. No, nothing like that.” He patted the bed next to him. “Shouldn’t allow you up here, but I’ll make a special exception.” Avon, with a glare appropriate for either species, sat down on the edge of the bed. </p><p>Vila reached over and unbuttoned the top button of Avon’s shirt. “I think it’s really cruel when people put clothes on pets. Laughing at them. That’s just mean. Although you’d look nice with a diamante collar.” </p><p>Avon got up and wedged the desk chair under the door handle. “As locks mean nothing around here.” He took off his clothes and lay down on the bed—toward the outside, Vila closer to the wall. “Mmmm,” Vila said, pulling Avon closer to him and stroking his back. </p><p>THURSDAY<br/>Avon raked his nails—right, left—down Vila’s chest inside his open shirt. “Oi!” Vila said. “Velvet paws! Velvet paws.” Avon patted his acquiescence.  “The odd nibble’s all right, but no biting, see?”</p><p>FRIDAY<br/>Vila kissed the top of Avon’s head. “Best kip I’ve had in ages, Paws,” he said. “Nice and warm and you hugging me all night.”</p><p>Avon rubbed his head back and forth against Vila’s shoulder. Vila doubled up his fingers and rubbed underneath Avon’s chin.</p><p>SATURDAY<br/>“*Another *box of chocolates?” Vila said. “I just got you one.” He padded over to the desk. “And, look, there’s still some left!”</p><p>Avon gave an eloquent sneeze to express his opinion of chocolate-covered raisin clusters.</p><p>SUNDAY<br/>Vila gave Avon the benefit of the doubt. After all, it was possible that Vila himself had knocked the Presents from Hooper’s Asteroid-X and the tea set with the bamboo handle and the little cups off the bookcase. He thought he would probably have remembered taking a nap in the laundry basket, though. </p><p>MONDAY<br/>“Avon’s looking contented,” Cally said, perhaps innocently. “Almost like the…”</p><p>Vila brooded. Snookered again, he thought. Why did I think I could get one over on Avon when he’s a Premier League getting-overer? It’s not that he wanted to make Avon do something that Avon really didn’t want to do. It’s just that he didn’t want to fetching and carrying when Avon was getting all the benefit of something he was blackmailed into.</p><p>Then Vila’s eyes brightened.</p><p>TUESDAY<br/>In lieu of the standard-issue bedspread, Avon had spent many hours making a fitted cover for the mattress out of a length of midnight-blue velvet from the Wardrobe Room, with matching bolsters and cushions. He planned to take it off at night and re-make the bed with the regular sheets and pillows. </p><p>Vila said, “Bet the velvet feels nice on bare skin.” Avon’s back, at the desk,  got even straighter to show how much he was ignoring Vila. “Mmmm, it does,” Vila said.  “See? No muddy boots on it. Nothing except me. And…this.” </p><p>When Vila loudly cracked open the cap on the container, Avon couldn’t help turning around. With a yowl, he sprang across the room, pushing his hands under Vila’s bottom, and frantically licking at the runnels  that drizzled down from the carton of cream. </p><p>Vila was impressed that he managed to get at all of it in time.</p>
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